


Just A Bad Dream

by Rinienne



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Infinity War spoilers, Love, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Sex, Romance, Smug Bucky, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 00:41:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14605428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinienne/pseuds/Rinienne
Summary: Steve had a bad dream. Thankfully, Bucky is there to comfort him.





	Just A Bad Dream

The strange, dark-gray pile on the ground felt strange, scratchy against Steve's fingers as he moved his hand over it. It wasn’t like sand, soft and warm from the summer sun, like in a distant memory of a beach from his childhood. Neither it was like ash which flew in the darkened sky over battlefields, dirtied his uniform, smelling unpleasant and persistent.

He tried to grasp it, but the thing was slipping through his fingers, refusing to stay in his hand. Yet, he wasn’t giving up, his fingernails digging into the already cold dust, trying to hold on, like a madman who understood it was too late, but continued to try still.

His vision became blurry, tears started to roll down his cheek. A strained cry escaped his lungs, barely audible, almost silent.

“Bucky...” he whispered, louder this time. His hands were starting to hurt as his skin scratched on the dirt and tiny rocks, blood starting to seep through the cuts on the fingers. “Bucky!” he repeated the name in an uncontrollable sob that tore out of him, echoed over the forest to be picked up by the wind.

A hand landed on his shoulder. and someone started to shake him. He tried to move away, communicate with the gesture his desire to be left alone. The shaking persisted, becoming even harsher instead. Someone was calling his name, and it was distracting him.

Steve groaned and tried to push the the hand off his shoulder, but it didn’t help. Whoever was next to him was now trying to pull him away from the pile of dust that was left of his best friend, his brother in arms, the one soul who understood him the most in this entire world.

But it was worse than that, because Bucky wasn’t just his friend, he was so much more. Steve had never had a chance to tell him. He would never get a chance now.

“No!” he shouted slapping the hand. “No, Bucky!”

“Steve, what the hell?” the voice next to him became clearer, and another figure appeared before his eyes.

It was blurry still, tears in Steve’s eyes was making it difficult to see. Something in it was familiar, however, making him want to trust. “Bucky?” he called as his sight started to clear.

“Shhh,” the man above him whispered. “It’s ok.”

Steve reached out, cupped the familiar face, his fingers rubbing against the scruff of Bucky’s beard. “How? I saw you...” he gasped, his words coming out cramped, his chest feeling too heavy to talk properly.

“Bad dream,” Bucky replied, then furrowed his eyebrows. ”I’m guessing it was one, you were tossing and turning. It took a moment to wake you up.”

Steve blinked a few times, realizing suddenly he wasn’t in a forest anymore, but in a room. It was bright in here, sunlight was seeping in through a large window, falling down a carpeted floor, reflecting from a multitude of surfaces made of marble and dark wood. The place looked modern, unusual even after years of living in this time period, but there were small things around him: vases, flowers, books on the shelves which made it look lived in.

There were silk-thin white curtains on the window itself, flowing gently in a light breeze. From the other side of it, Steve could hear distant sounds of a city, a far away tamul of a crowd. Yet it was quiet, barely audible and drowned completely in songs of birds, their chirps melodic, relaxing.

Listening to it, Steve closed his eyes. He instantly regretted it, as he saw himself in the forest again, kneeling before a dark-gray mass.

His entire body trembled almost violently, and he started to pant. “I wanted.. I needed. I’ve never said I loved you,” he muttered snapping his eyes open, turning to look at Bucky wishing to push aside every last bit of his nightmare.

There wasn’t any surprise on the other man's face, and instead his expression turned a little smug. “Oh, I think you did. A few times last night, in fact,” he smiled warmly. Leaning onto his elbow, he maneuvered his body into a position where he could reach for Steve, move a strand of stray hair out of his face.

Steve was still trying to calm down when he felt a press of warm skin against his thigh and understood he was undressed. Licking his lips, he hurriedly glanced around once again, to fully assess his surroundings.

He laid in a rather comfortable bed which was neither too hard nor too soft, dipping slightly under the weights of their bodies. There was a light white blanket thrown over Bucky’s shoulders, but it fell down a little and was revealing his bare chest. The man himself looked relaxed, well rested like Steve hadn’t remembered seeing him in a while. His metal arm was detached, hidden somewhere out of sight, and he was hovering above Steve, holding himself on one elbow with ease. He was also spotting a serious case of bed hair. Without his hair tie, they were hanging down messily, which made him look somewhat adorable.

Steve wanted to say a lot of things, but his throat was refusing to work properly, so he did the next best thing. Reaching up, he ran one of his hands over Bucky's chest, feeling coarse hair against his palm.

The memories of the events of the previous day started to slowly return to him. His arrival to Wakanda, his meeting with his old friend. A walk under a starry sky, a glance that lingered a second too long, the first brush of his lips against Bucky’s. After that, neither could stop, caught in a heat of each-other’s desire that was suppressed for way too long.

And then he saw Bucky die, erased out of existence by the enemy he was too weak to defeat.

Breath caught in his throat, and Steve had to blink, shake his head to push the horrible image away. “Bucky,” he whispered, his second hand coming to the nape of the other man’s head, pulling him closer.

Without support oh the second arm Bucky tipped over, fell onto the blonde’s chest with a quiet yelp of complain. He felt warm solid, incredibly _real_ against him, and Steve didn't even try to resist clashing their lips in a kiss. He worried for a moment as the other man turned still, but slowly he started to relax, answer it with enthusiasm.

It wasn’t enough, however, and Steve tugged him completely on top of himself, moaning into the kiss as he felt a hip pressing against his rapidly hardening member.

The movement prompted Bucky to shiver and pull away. “Really?” he snorted. His voice sounded a little disapproving, but there was a spark in his eyes, which told Steve he had no complains about their current situation. “I mean, we do have plenty of stamina for our old age, but I’ve never expected you to be so... unsatable.”

“I need you,” Steve replied simply, because this had nothing to do with lust. What he wanted was a reassurance. He needed to know that this moment was real, that this wasn’t an illusion born out of his inability to cope with loss.

Perhaps, all his emotions were written on his face, because Bucky’s expression changed, becoming suddenly concerned and understanding. “I’m here. This is real,” he said seriously, their eyes locking. With that he lent down once again, recapturing his lover’s lips.

The kiss was deep and desperate, and Steve could do nothing to stop a low groan rising from his chest. He closed his eyes and allowed his lover to take charge, enjoying the wet heat of his mouth, the scruffiness of his beard that was tickling his lips. He felt a little dizzy, a little overwhelmed, so he held tightly into the other man, because it was the only thing he could do to keep himself grounded in this reality.

Steve felt his lover shift, his hips rolling forward, making him gasp from the sudden pleasure. Without even thinking, he spread his legs, freeing more space for Bucky to maneuver.

“Not that I’m complaining, but do you really intend to make the one armed guy do all the work?” Bucky chuckled above him, his mouth moving to nibble at Steve’s neck.

Humming in agreement, Steve embraced his lover and rolled them to a side. “Is this alright?” he inquired rubbing the small of Bucky's back, still holding him as close as it was possible.

“More than alright,” Bucky smiled, his hand sliding effortlessly, boldly between their bodies, taking them both into a tight grip.

Steve sighed as he felt the length of his lover pressed against him, hot and solid. Moving even closer, he began sliding slowly against him, getting lost in the incredible sensations. He wanted to look at Bucky, wanted to keep him in the field of his vision, wanted this image to be the only thing left in his mind, but he couldn’t. With a sharp inhale of air, he dropped his head onto the brunette’s shoulder, tears gathering in his eyes once again.

“Bucky,” he moaned, his every sense converging to the point of contact between them. It felt like everything else in the entire world disappeared, like it became meaningless. What was left was his lover’s warmth, his smell, the taste of his damp from the sweat skin.

“Shh, it’s fine,” Bucky replied, his voice sounding right above Steve’s ear. His hand picked up the pace, holding them just a little tighter. There was no playfulness to his actions, no teasing. His each movement was precise but gentle, and it was exactly what Steve needed. “I'm here, with you.”

Steve came with a soundless cry, his fingers digging into the skin of Bucky’s hip, tears rolling down his face. Somewhere next to him, he felt his lover shudder, heard his own name muffled against his neck, but it seemed far away, unfocused. Just for a moment he imagined all of it dissipate, and it terrified him, so he held onto Bucky as tight as he could, for as long as he was able to.

“You gonna strangle me,” Bucky laughed quietly, turning his head just enough to place a soft kiss on the blonde’s cheek.

Steve chuckled back and loosened his grip, yet didn’t let go completely.

***

The morning was lazy, warm. Steve was splayed on the bed enjoying the way soft white sheets felt under him, his muscles aching pleasantly in places which no other form of workout could exhaust.

Some time ago he would’ve found it embarrassing, but now he felt little shame in watching Bucky’s beautiful form, wondering why he hadn’t noticed how good the other man looked from behind. Then again, not every day Bucky was putting up a show like this for him.

The other man had time to reattach his metal arm, but he was still completely nude. His back was to Steve as he stood in front of the window, drinking coffee and seemingly watching something outside. Yet, with the way his muscles moved under his skin when he was bringing the mug to his lips, as if he was putting extra effort into the simple motion, told Steve he was doing it to impress.

Still smiling, Steve got up from the bed. A smell of freshly brewed coffee was tempting him to go to the kitchen first, but the view next to the window was much more irresistible. Stretching, the blonde walked towards his lover, wrapping his arms around his waist, his chin landing to rest on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Oh, look who’s finally decided it was enough lazing around,” Bucky chuckled leaning into the embrace.

“I wasn't lazing around, I was thinking,” Steve replied.

“What about?” brunette asked. His voice sounded practically disinterested, but Steve knew him long enough to know he was trying to hide curiosity.

Steve smiled against the skin of his neck, glancing out of the window at the range of mountains spreading above the city, at the sun still rising over the forest. It was only an hour ago he saw his lover dying out there. Now only traces of that horrible nightmare was left in his memory, distant, irrelevant.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he confessed.

Steve heard Bucky placing the half-empty mug onto the windowsill, felt his real hand landing on his one. “You won’t, I promise. Never.”


End file.
